Not Yet
by Mai Kusakabe
Summary: We know what happened after Marineford, we've seen how Marco felt, but... what about that moment itself?


I know it's a little late, 10pm here, but I just got home, and here's my update for today: Angst. Now, I don't know if this particular scene has been written before, but I haven't seen it at least, so I decided to write it.

Beta-read by Aerle :D

Also, no update tomorrow, remember.

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**Not Yet**

The world froze.

For a moment, nothing moved, nothing could be heard.

Silence, stillness, emptiness, all of it broke in a sudden burst of stifled gasps, yells and exclamations of both horror and triumph, and the worst nightmare of all, the one that had been pushing at the back of his consciousness for these past few weeks, took over every aspect of reality.

There, the dream, the bright future that had turned into uncertainty moments ago, now shattered as Ace stood there, frozen for eternal seconds, a gaping wound of melted flesh, blood and smoke open through his stomach and, as the marine retreated after his attack, Ace's legs gave way and he fell on his knees.

Marco, body cold and so heavy it shouldn't have been able to stand on its own, felt his heart stop for a whole second before he saw, horror finally settling in over shock and incredulity, how Akainu approached to strike down a still breathing Ace.

He barely noticed Jinbe momentarily stopping the man, his eyes moving desperately around as he yelled, once more, for someone to remove his handcuffs. For the same guy who had removed Ace's to do it.

And then he was there, alongside Vista blocking the admiral's next attack, his attention much more focused on what was now behind him than his opponent.

"How could we let this happen…?!" That was what he said, for lack of a chance to express what he really needed to say. He couldn't turn around, couldn't kneel on the ground, couldn't wrap his arms around Ace and at least try to apologize, to let the other know how much he regretted —so much he wasn't even capable to wrap his mind around it— that moment of distraction, that too early cheerfulness that now had cost them all, him, so dear.

He couldn't because he had to make sure the bastard before him couldn't get close to Ace again, couldn't steal even his last few, precious moments from him.

Because Ace's voice was rapidly fading, so fast there was nothing anyone could do to bring it back.

He heard a muffled falling sound, and knew the only one holding Ace up now was his little brother.

"…I'm sorry, Luffy…" Ace's voice came as an almost inaudible breath now, and Marco didn't allow himself to hesitate as he pushed the marine away from the fallen man, didn't allow himself to risk letting the admiral have another chance to attack just so he could hear Ace's last words.

The Fire Fist would never forgive him if he risked anything happening to his little brother because of that selfish wish.

So, Marco centered on keeping the marine at bay, his efforts thwarted by the part of his mind that insisted on staying focused on Ace's voice, the voice that didn't sound in words and that was now so faint he had to strain his senses to hear it over all the others crowding the battlefield.

Until that voice wasn't there anymore.

A lone tear broke through his attempt at holding them back in his eyes, and the agonized scream of Strawhat Luffy echoed the ones raging inside him.

Taking advantage of that mere moment of crushing horror that overcame him at the undeniable reality that Ace, _Ace_, was now _dead_, Akainu slipped through his guard, charging straight at Ace's little brother with yet another magma fist created to bring death.

Marco almost didn't react in time to prevent the same attack that had taken Ace's life to do the same to his brother.

And he concentrated with all his will into protecting the boy, because if he let himself dwell on the thought of how easily he could block that attack, how he could have done the exact same thing for Ace if he hadn't been handcuffed with kairoseki, he would crumble and wouldn't be able to stand up again.

Instead, he yelled for everybody to protect the boy, because Pops had already given his last order and couldn't do it.

But, when Jinbe had taken the rookie pirate away and Pops attacked Akainu, Marco couldn't bring himself to help. Not yet.

He turned around on the now relatively calm spot, his eyes falling on the lying form of Ace and his smiling, calm face. If it wasn't for all the blood and the smoke coming from the wound that, if clean, would allow to see the ground through it, there would have been no difference at all with the young man's expression when he slept, head resting on Marco's chest.

It was only adrenaline, adrenaline and the firm determination now settled in his mind not to allow Ace's sacrifice to go to waste that kept him on his feet.

He didn't drop to his knees, he didn't cradle his lifeless lover's body in his arms, he didn't kiss his bloodied, smiling face and he didn't break down into tears. He just stared at him for the longest seconds on his life, turned around and headed to where he could hear the younger brother's voice.

Marco didn't fall apart right then and there, but he knew that, once he fell, it would be very hard for him to stand back up again.

And he wouldn't, ever, be the same again. A huge part of himself stayed behind on the stony, cold ground of Marineford's Oris Plaza, and it would never come back.


End file.
